Deputy Dad-Stealer
by mimithereader
Summary: GEN prompt - Ahhh, I'm having so many Stilinski family feels. I need Stiles getting jealous of his dad's and deputy parish's relationship (like sheriff patting Parrish on the back, praising him, idk going out to lunch, anything really that you can think of). You can make it as angsty or fluffy as you want it, I just NEED something about the Stilinski boys and Parrish.


Stiles was having a good day. Or, at least it was a notably bad day.

That is until he went out to get dinner with Scott and saw his dad with the new deputy.

"You didn't tell me we were meeting your dad here," Scott says when he follows Stiles's line of sight.

"…We're not."

Scott gives him a confused look, not comprehending the situation.

"But you always eat here with him," Scott says it like a question. Stiles nods, eyes never leaving his father. "…and he's here," Scott drawls slowly like Stiles is the one who isn't understanding. "Hey, I remember you saying he would call if he found time to meet you here this week!"

Stiles switches his glare from the back of deputy Parrish's head to fix it on Scott. Scott's pride at being right fades quickly as he takes in his friend's glare and the slight gleam of sadness in his eyes.

"Oh," Scott says lamely, unsure of what to do.

"Whatever. Let's just go grab a pizza or something," Stiles tells him, shoving past and heading back out the double doors.

Scott follows and doesn't have the heart to point out that they had pizza for lunch.

Stiles doesn't forget about the way his father apparently blew him off to have lunch with his deputy. He doesn't. But he doesn't bring it up either. There's nothing to say, really. _Hey, dad, I saw you at the diner without me. Have fun?_

It's tempting, but that's too bitter. Even for Stiles.

Stiles has almost convinced himself that he imagined the whole diner fiasco. Almost. But then he comes home after studying at Scott's and sees none other than Deputy Parrish lounging on his couch.

His couch. In his house.

"Uh, hi," Stiles says awkwardly, staring at the deputy.

"Hey, Stiles," Parrish replies casually, like it's totally normal for him to be hanging out on their couch.

Hell, maybe it is. Stiles isn't home a lot.

His dad is sitting in his recliner and nods at Stiles asking how school was.

"It was school," Stiles says and he can't really contain some of the brattiness from creeping into his voice.

John just gives him a raised eyebrow. Stiles falters under it. Like always.

"I, uh, mean it was just, you know, normal. School was normal." _Unlike this_ Stiles wants to say, but he bites his tongue.

"Good," John says simply, still giving him a peculiar look before shaking it off.

Stiles hates when he does that. Hates feeling like his dad is trying to shake off his disappointment, his frustration. Hates feeling like his dad is trying to shake off _him._

"You want anything?" John asks Parrish, standing up to head towards the kitchen.

"I'll take a beer," Parrish answers.

John nods and walks off. _Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for asking_ Stiles wants to say. But he won't. it isn't worth it. He's being stupid. He's just being stupid, he tells himself, so he goes upstairs and actually gets a jump on his homework to avoid focusing on the bitter taste of rejection.

Stiles decides to do a nice thing and bring his father food when he's stuck at the station late. He's got two veggie burgers and is excited to just spend some time with his dad. They haven't talked much lately and Stiles misses it, misses him. So he strolls in, stopping to say hi to the woman at the front desk, and walks back towards his dad's office only to stop short when he sees in the window.

Deputy Parrish is sitting in the chair on the other side of the sheriff's desk – the chair Stiles has been sitting in for the past eight years. There's bags of fast food splayed out on the desk and the two men are laughing and Stiles feels like he's been punched in the gut.

He turns on his heel and drops both veggie burgers in the trash, walking back out of the station, ignoring the woman at the front desk.

He realizes belatedly he's thrown away his dinner as well.

It doesn't matter though. He isn't hungry anymore.

It's a couple weeks later and Stiles is not even surprised when he wakes up around noon, gets downstairs, and sees Parrish.

_ Call me Kyle_, he'd told Stiles and Stiles had smiled but not responded. He doesn't want to call this father-stealer anything, would prefer to never have to address him. But if that's not an option, he'll stick to Parrish. It sounds like a villain's name.

_Parrish_ and his dad are relaxing on the couch, beers in hand, staring fixedly at the game.

Sports. Yay.

Stiles walks back upstairs, throws on a pair of jeans, and walks resolutely out the door.

No one says a word to him.

He pretends he prefers it that way. After all, he doesn't need to lie to his dad then.

"Hey, you're still off Friday, right?" Stiles calls to his dad from the kitchen.

"Oh, yeah, I'm going out to the shooting range," John responds, walking into the kitchen.

"Who are you going with?" Stiles tries to ask casually.

His dad gives him an assessing look and he guesses he's missed the mark. His dad doesn't comment on it, though. He never does. And how sad is it that Stiles actually wishes his dad would call him out on being petty? Tell him he's just being stupid, just being ridiculous? That he would never ever try to replace Stiles, how could Stiles be that stupid? But it doesn't come. Of course it doesn't.

"Kyle."

_Kyle. First name basis. _

"Oh."

"That alright?" John asks him and Stiles thinks he can hear the edge of annoyance in his father's tone.

"Fine," Stiles tells him.

He doesn't remind his dad that he had promised to take Stiles to get tires for the jeep and see a movie after.

It doesn't matter, Stiles can do it alone.

Stiles feels bad. He had yelled at his dad the night before about not eating healthy, his jealousy making his words harsher than they normally would have been. His dad had been gone before he woke up in the morning and Stiles never got the chance to apologize. He's glad to see his dad's cruiser in the driveway when he gets home from lacrosse practice, is planning on saying sorry.

That is, he _had_ been planning on apologizing, before he sees his dad sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and Parrish cooking on his stove. In _his_ kitchen. Parrish registers Stiles's presence before John does and he gives Stiles a bright smile.

"Hey, Stiles, dinner'll be ready in just a minute."

Stiles doesn't move, just glares at Parrish.

His dad doesn't even look up at him, but starts talking, "Kyle's a great cook."

"Don't worry, Stiles, my dad has high cholesterol and I guarantee this recipe is one hundred percent heart healthy. My mom taught me it."

Stiles wants to punch someone. His dad or Parrish, he isn't sure which. Parrish for being so selfish because he has his own dad and yet, here he is, taking up all of Stiles's time with his own. And his dad, the traitor, obviously told Parrish about their argument last night. And he's willingly about to eat some healthy recipe because _Kyle_ made it? Stiles has to fight with him tooth and nail for every healthy meal.

Stiles snatches his keys back up from the table by the door, rushes out some bullshit excuse about having to work on a school project, and walks out the door.

He can admit that a small part of him resents the fact that Parrish has both of his parents and that John likes him.

Stiles can admit that maybe it's not really a small part.


End file.
